


Cigarette Smoke, Old Scars, Blue Stripes

by ToxicBabes



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Flirting, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Masculinity, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21534412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: Timur's feelings for Maxim grows stronger and he struggles to evade questions regarding relationships and women. Behind Maxim's crass demeanour, he also feels the same way.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	Cigarette Smoke, Old Scars, Blue Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, I created this document on the 7th of November 2018. So an entire year ago and I had half of it written, just sorta left it. Now it's finished and I've decided to share it here. I've been sort of pushing myself to try and get things done, hopefully that skill will transfer to my longer WIPs sitting in my Google Docs.
> 
> My Twitter is [@CompoundZ8](https://twitter.com/CompoundZ8)  
> My Tumblr is [erc-7](https://erc-7.tumblr.com)
> 
> Edit:  
> [Big thanks to Levasoj for making some amazing art based on this!](https://twitter.com/LevaSoj/status/1199513664749002752?s=20)  
> 

Timur was a morning person. Out of all of the Spetsnaz he was the first to rise in the morning, usually just after sunrise when the skies were still a steely blue and void of any soaring birds. In the warmth of his bed he sat up and gazed across the silent sleeping quarters, taking in the sight of everyone still fast asleep. 

Alexsandr let out a low grumble and shifted in his bed, rolling onto his side as the bedsprings squealed under the weight of his body. As always Shuhrat slept curled up, the mess of his brown hair peeking out from under the duvet and all Timur could see was the big lump that was his body. On the other hand, Maxim had his blanket bunched up by his feet, kicked to the side out of annoyance. He slept naked aside from his patterned boxers that hung loosely around his hips and his socked feet rested over the edge of the bed. He was sprawled out on his belly with his toned arms hugging his pillow, his face nuzzled into it and his expression was peaceful, unlike his permanent moody frown.

Timur found his gaze lingering on Maxim, eyes taking in the beautiful sight of his sculpted back muscles, how the morning light rested on his pale skin, emphasising every curve and angle of his strong build. He found himself reaching for his sketchbook and a pencil, wanting to preserve the image in front of him. Hoping Maxim wouldn’t stir in his sleep, Timur began to draw, capturing his pose and as time passed and the daylight painted the room a warm orange he realised the view in front of him almost echoed a Renaissance painting. It was breathtaking.

By the time Shuhrat had awoken Timur was finishing off the minor details, adding in the little freckles to the scar Maxim got from standing too close to his trap as it detonated. That cost him a spleen, Timur remembered vividly how the blood trickled hot against his palms as he tried to staunch the bleeding. He pushed the memory aside and furrowed his brows, adding the faint stripes on Maxim’s boxers.

Maxim was never one for tight sports briefs and only ever wore them when he was training, at the gym or on a mission. Outside of that he lounged around their sleeping quarters with only his boxers on, sometimes a tank top and his zip-up hoodie when it got chilly. The amount of times Timur stole a look at his legs was simply unforgivable, though he couldn’t resist the temptation of flicking his eyes over to his thick thighs when he knew he could get away with it. It was weird, _perverted_ to creep on his teammate and he always felt an icy wash of shame run over his body, but after a while he had accepted it was an impulse he could barely control.

The sound of Shuhrat shuffling around the luggage had woken Maxim from his slumber. His head rose from the pillow, face contorted with annoyance as he cracked open an eye to see what was going on. Timur sniggered at his hair that stuck up in ten different directions, deep inside he adored the scruffy side of Maxim and loved it when he went a few days without shaving. Their eyes met. Maxim’s expression softened and he shot a little smile back in return, his eyes closing once more. _Like an angel,_ Timur thought to himself and felt his heart fluttering, his cheeks flaring hot at the idea of being so poetically sappy as if he was a crushing schoolgirl.

Maxim stretched out like a cat, toes curling and arms raising high as he did so, and he let out a groan of satisfaction that caught Timur by surprise- it sounded _lewd._ He stood and approached their bags to rummage for something clean to wear. 

“Training today,” Alexsandr announced with a yawn, trying to tug his shirt over his head. Then he added, “with the recruits.”

Confusedly, Maxim plucked a pair of briefs from his luggage. “Hm, I thought it was going to be tomorrow,” he murmured back and right there and then he dropped his boxers. No hesitation, no shame, all in one fell swoop then he pulled the briefs on. Neither Alexsandr or Shuhrat said a single word, and Timur? He was swallowing the lump in his throat after getting an eyeful of Maxim’s muscular ass- and a little more. 

“Mission is tomorrow,” Shuhrat interjected matter-of-factly as he pulled on his gorka. “We have a briefing this evening to go over our plan.”

Timur jumped as the soft fabric of his knit cap hit his face. He met Maxim’s cheeky grin and raised his brow at him. 

“Come. I don’t wanna eat alone,” Maxim said, waiting by the door. He gave Timur a strong pat on the back as they left, slowly ambling down the hallways as other operators of Rainbow crawled out of their sleeping quarters with sleepiness written on their faces. “The diner near base looks good. I’ll treat you.”

Timur gave a shrug and figured he had no option in this. “You don’t have to…” he mumbled back.

“You paid for us last time, remember? Back in Tokyo for dinner. I’ll pay this time,” Maxim reminded him, his elbow digging into his side. A smile grew on Timur’s face as he recalled the night at the sushi bar, the sound of Shuhrat spluttering for air after eating a massive glob of wasabi and how drunk they got off sake, the way Maxim slung his arm around his shoulder and how much he missed, _craved_ for anything remotely close to that kind of touch again.

They strolled across cool asphalt, taking in the clear morning air as trucks rumbled by, pulled into the small parking area in front of the diner and the trees swayed gently in the mild gust. America was a different world to Russia, from the culture to the general appearance of architecture to the people. Truckers with their plump bellies and bristle moustaches, some smoking outside and a few entering the diner, or already seated and scarfing down their morning meal. Timur found himself staring a little too much, but found that they were stared at as well. 

It wasn’t a surprise. After all, they were decked out in their gorka suits, minus the dark face paint and the rest of their kit. The little Russian flags on their sleeves stuck out like a sore thumb, prompting some to turn their heads and raise a brow. In comparison to the other military personnel here enjoying their breakfast, they looked vastly different, foreign. 

Seated at a bright booth where the sunlight could filter in comfortably, a young waitress handed out the menus and poured two cups of black coffee. She was youthful, wore a face of conservative makeup and a little bit of lipstick, seemed like a sweet girl though nothing of interest to him. Timur scanned down the fine text, though quickly found himself distracted by the conversation in front of him.

“So, what do you recommend?”

“The Belgian waffles are a favourite with our regulars.”

“Ah, I’ll have that then… could I also get your phone number?”

She laughed, her finger continuing to fiddle with her blonde hair. Timur had stopped reading the menu and looked up at Maxim, almost disapprovingly, and met the view of his stupid grin and there wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment on his face. That was always how he was. Unabashed, always bold and never afraid to take an opportunity. 

“I’m afraid that’s not on the menu,” she responded politely and her gaze shifted to Timur, she offered him her pearly-white smile. “And what can I get you?”

“Erm… the scrambled eggs and bacon, thank you.” He handed over the menu and turned his focus to Maxim as the waitress drifted away to tend to other patrons. “What the hell was that?” He asked with a chuckle. 

Maxim took a long sip from his coffee. “An attempt. Something you don’t do,” he said smartly and crossed his arms across his chest, his lips twisted into a curve, his expression smug despite his defeat. “That’s why you haven’t found yourself a girl yet. You never try.”

The thing was, Timur was never searching for a female companion and never had in his entire life. It was a little secret he kept tucked neatly away along with his burning attraction towards Maxim, his adoration for his masculinity and everything about him. Being in his company, the idea of only the two of them out here enjoying a meal together was enough to make his heart flutter and his fingertips tingle with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He tore his gaze away from Maxim’s face and watched the lorries and trucks exit and enter the car park. 

“Hey, look. Girls can be complicated, sometimes it’s hard. Nothing wrong with that. A challenge is a challenge but you seem to avoid it,” Maxim continued and Timur only shrugged back, wishing they weren’t talking about this subject because it always made him squirm inside as if there were bugs under his skin. Maxim clicked his tongue as if he had it all figured out and for a moment Timur was afraid he had connected the dots. “Ah, let me guess. You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you? You like _her_ too much to even consider anyone else. Am I right?”

Trapped in a corner, Timur chose not to reply. Thankfully the waitress was approaching their table with their food and he would have a few extra moments to think. Maxim’s smirk grew wider and his eyes drifted to the pretty waitress, he winked and never in Timur’s entire life had he been more jealous or disturbed. As she left, Maxim whistled triumphantly to himself and flashed a small napkin at Timur with a phone number smudged onto it. 

“Are you going to tell me who it is or will I have to guess?” Maxim asked and picked up his fork. Timur ignored him and began to eat, realising they hadn’t had much time and he had an entire plateful of bacon and eggs to wolf down. He started humming as he churned up names of everyone in Rainbow. “Can’t be Eliza or Meghan, both of them are too bold for you. Lera is off bounds… Monika is cute though, but isn’t she dating Emma-“

Mouth full, Timur shook his head as he chewed slowly, one hand gripping his fork, the other clasped around his cup of coffee and his eyes trained on Maxim’s thoughtful expression. He waited until Maxim gave up and let it go, but today it seemed that he wasn’t going to stop unless he got his answers. This was a trap. He needed to pretend he liked someone in Rainbow or make up an old flame from high school in order to throw Maxim off his scent. Though deception wasn’t Timur’s forte and Maxim was a persistent hunter when it came to capturing his prey. 

“Don’t hide from me, Timur,” Maxim said in almost a whine that nearly made him choke. He gave him a kicked-puppy look and furrowed his eyebrows upwards imploringly, but it was all a facade. Whenever Timur shook his head again, his lips twisted into that nasty smirk of his and his eyes narrowed playfully. “It’s Taina… admit it, _Timmy._ I bet you have a hard on when you see her face paint.”

Timur rolled his eyes but it was misinterpreted as a diversion to throw him off from finding out who his true crush was. In reality, Timur found himself _shrinking_ whenever he passed by Taina with her face paint. Frightening memories from training, being ambushed out of nowhere and pinned to the ground by a woman who was nearly his height and probably twice as strong, had quickly confirmed he was in no way attracted to her. 

“Got you,” Maxim said, seeming satisfied with himself. He didn’t even complain when Timur had began to poke his fork at his plate, stealing the fruit that garnished his sweet breakfast. Timur was a sucker for strawberries. “Listen. I’ll help you out. I’ll be your wingman. Just… put some effort into it, alright? I do all the work for you and get the girls to talk to you but you always mess it up.” 

“Then don’t bother,” Timur told him and mentally pleaded for him not to go through with his plan. “I’ll mess it up with her like I do with other girls.”

“That’s not the attitude I want.”

The clock ticked on further. They had lost track of time and were considerably late for training. Knowing that Mike was leading the training for today, the forecast for being scolded was likely, and public humiliation was definite. 

“Save it for later,” Timur suggested and nodded towards the door, indicating they should leave. Maxim nodded and left a generous tip along with their bill. 

The walk back to base was brisk and Maxim attempted to prod at the subject of Taina once more but Timur was determined not to give in. He had hardly ever spoken to her in his entire career at Rainbow and he had no plans to befriend her. After all, she was not the type of person to go out of her way to maintain a friendship.

Chain link fences rustled as they approached the grounds where Rainbow has gathered with a number of selected recruits, practice drills to coordinate with each other and work as a team to prepare for the mission. As they drew closer, Timur could hear Mike’s booming voice, that distinct accent echoing as he barked orders and pointed out any blaring mistakes. Mike had caught them from the corner of his eye and crossed his arms, not looking impressed whatsoever. 

Maxim continued with his usual smugness, giving everyone a nod in greeting and he smiled at Mike, feigning not to know what was the problem. On the other hand, Timur came with his tail tucked between his legs, a sheepish simper as he almost hid behind Maxim. 

“You two love birds back from your date?” Mike asked then gave a gruff laugh, but Timur knew well enough not to laugh back. “Awk, pet, don’t be scared. I can see you hiding behind Maxim. Anyways, now that these two have arrived, this is Kapkan and Glaz, the other two members of the Spetsnaz. To keep you two updated, we’re going over the hot breach protocol, coordination with gadgets like Candelas, that fookin’ drone in the sky as well as cluster charges. Alpha team, you’re up.”

“At least we go on _dates_. That fossil probably doesn’t even go outside,” Maxim whispered to him.

Training was a long and laborious process, although not too drab. Working with the recruits was a refreshing change for once but it would never change the fact that practicing the same drills over and over to perfect the technique was the most soul-crushing experience. By the end of it, Timur’s legs were tender from running, his arms ached from having to haul a recruit over his shoulder during the measures to be taken when evacuating injured personnel. He has a good feeling Mike was punishing the two of them when he assigned them to carry out demonstrations as if the recruits hadn’t went through it a dozen times before in their training. 

As they picked up the equipment and trailed towards the armory with the practice rifles, Maxim nudged him and gave a grin. Timur looked back at him and raised a brow in question.

“What an ass,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I hope Eliza is taking the meeting this evening.”

Timur didn’t respond, but smiled to express his solidarity. He put the rifles back onto the racks, making sure they were arranged in a proper fashion before he turned to the doors. Maxim had taken a seat at the edge of the steps where he lit a cigarette. The smoke trailed and curled upwards, stark against his darkly-dressed frame. 

As he approached him, his boots crunched against the loose gravel on the concrete. He settled down next to him and stared across the grassy stretch of land. After a while, Maxim offered him a drag of his cigarette which he accepted, allowing the smoke to fill his body with warmth and the nicotine to tighten his chest. He enjoyed this sort of quietness which was expected from Maxim. After all, he was never much of a talker. 

Abrupt and out of the blue, he stubbed out his finished cigarette and stood up. “We’ll go to the bar after this mission. I’m gonna hook you up with someone nice, yeah?” He offered, smoke puffing from his mouth as he exhaled.

The scent was always offensive to Timur. He never enjoyed it, but he tolerated it when it came to him. Either way, he wanted it to invade every crevice of his body. The acrid aroma in itself was like a part of Maxim that always clung to his mind, something he thirsted over despite hating so much. Perhaps it was an odd charm alike to his crass personality that Timur had grown to love.

“Eh,” Timur made a noise and seemed uncertain. Although, he didn’t want to disappoint. “Whatever.”

* * *

  
  


The mission went well. No major casualties, the only being that Timur took a fist to the face which gave him a nasty black eye- nothing an ice pack and a couple shots of vodka couldn’t fix. As planned, the large group of them made their way to a local bar to wind down and enjoy themselves for their time being in America. They ordered their pints, settled down somewhere comfortable.

Timur had let his mind slip. Perhaps it was a concussion from being punched, but he had forgotten that often times, Maxim was a man of his word. He finished his second pint when Maxim returned to the table with a broad smile on his face, the kind when he felt that he did something smooth. 

“I think Taina wants to speak with you,” he tried to mention casually and gained a look from Shuhrat. “Go on, Timur. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Yeah, fuck you too,” he muttered back, unable to wipe the grin from his face. 

He got up and spotted Taina sitting by the bar. It wasn’t unusual that she was on her own. From observation, she preferred it that way. 

Her head was turned away, watching the Americans playing at the dart board. Without her face paint on, she was an entirely different being. Hair was still plaited, draping over her shoulder and her arms were crossed behind her drink, resting on the counter-top. The glow from the mounted television rested on her clear skin. Her expression emanated a curiosity that was no different to how a cat would watch a fly, readily amused but not too bothered to act upon it.

While Timur never really had eyes for women, he could see the beauty in her. He approached and caught her attention. 

“Mind if I sit?”

A shrug in response, but probably along the lines of ‘sure, sit down’ and not ‘please go away.’ For some strange reason, it was a rather nerve-wracking interaction. Timur slid onto the seat next to her and glanced to see her lips curved into a curious smile and she watched him as he glanced around. 

“Want a drink?” He asked, trying to play it smooth but he knew he was practically sandpaper at this point. In fact, every morsel of his strength was being used to stop him from cringing and aborting the scene. 

Taina waved down the bartender and ordered two martinis, added them to her tab. She took a long sip of her cocktail and amused herself with Timur’s surprised expression. Quite the power play. “Your friend sent you?” She asked after letting him stammer like an idiot for several seconds. “We talked for a bit, he asked if I was single, said you were interested.”

While Maxim was a smooth-talker, he could also be incredibly straight forward. Timur blinked back at her for a few seconds. “Well, about that-“ he tried to say but was quickly interrupted.

“I know you’re not. It’s fine,” she cut in and inhaled deeply. “But we can sit and chat for a bit, it’ll give him the impression you’re trying when you’re really not.”

Surprised at how correct and blunt she was, Timur raised his brows then nodded, his heart fluttering in nervousness from how bold she was. Defeated, he drank his martini and turned his eyes to the game of American football broadcasting on the television. “Yeah, he does that a lot. I’m sorry that you got involved, it’s just some silly joke,” he said. “Hey, how did you figure I’m not into you? Or as it an assumption?”

She chewed on the olive of her martini, distracted by the commotion elsewhere. “I peg you as ah… not into conventional tastes,” she replied and couldn’t ignore his imploring look for her to elaborate. Her cold, calculating gaze ate up his curious expression. “This might offend but let’s just say, I think you’re gay.”

At that instance it seemed that his brain had short-circuited. He choked on his drink, coughed and sputtered to her amusement. Once he composed himself, he cleared his throat and gave her an incredulous look. For the first time he’d seen a genuine smile from her, not one that was forced for politeness but she enjoyed the lighthearted jest between them.

“Well, I guess you’re not wrong but let’s keep it between us, yeah? It’s not really something I disclose but you’ve managed to figure it out on your own,” he said and managed to control his own feelings of anxiousness. Having people find out about his sexuality never sat quite right with him and often had his mind churning all kinds of nervous thoughts out. “Is- is it obvious?”

Her brow cocked at his apprehension and she chose her words with care. “Not really, I suppose. Although, you know me, I’m good at looking for the small details.” Once again she waved the bartender down and ordered another drink. “You have a tendency to steal glances. Anyways, relax and have some fun. You put down some bad bastards today, no need to worry about that kind of stuff. I can keep a secret.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that had Timur realise that she was more than her intimidating caricature she created for herself. Beneath the never-smiling expression of her was a dimensional being with all kinds of insights. Being the type of person to note minor details, discussing their fellow coworkers with one another had them occupied for the rest of the night. It wasn’t gossiping per say, nothing was particularly malicious but she had a way of reading people that was impeccable.

While Timur wasn’t attracted to her physically, there was something charismatic about her. Once she opened up and became more talkative, all the malicious rumours surrounding her seemed to ease slightly. There was still something different about her, how she saw others but Timur appreciated the ability to know someone more.

When it was late, he decided to slip out and make the brief walk back to base. As fun as it was to watch the Americans and British fool around, sometimes all the noise became suffocating after so long. Timur made his escape through a side door of the pub and realised how pleasantly drunk he was when the cool night air hit him. 

The world was spinning under his feet. He walked for several minutes until the sudden force of someone grabbing him made him stumble. Maxim had tackled him against the wall- well, fell against him out of his own clumsiness.

“Trying to get away?” He asked, words slurred slightly as he eased off. Timur brushed himself off and stared back, confused. “Saw you talking to her, you looked like you were having a good time. What the hell happened?”

They began to walk down the alley. “I don’t know,” Timur shrugged, lying so painfully so. He didn’t know why he tried, Maxim could always read him without much effort. “She’s not the one.”

Lips curled back into a mixture between a sneer and a grin, Maxim simply fumbled for a cigarette and lit it. “You gotta get laid,” he mumbled and sighed out a great puff of smoke. Again, he offered Timur a drag. “What’s wrong, man? Can’t get it up?”

The rapid buzz of nicotine certainly helped sober him a bit. Timur returned the cigarette. “You’re a prick when you’re drunk, you know that?” He pointed out. 

It didn’t stop him from continuing on. Once Maxim was determined to provoke a reaction, he would follow through until the end. He wanted answers, a way into Timur’s head to investigate why on earth in all the years they’ve known each other, that he was unable to find a girlfriend of any sort. 

“Mmhm, I get it,” he said and chucked the butt away. As if he was preparing himself, he shook the nervousness out of his hands and riled himself up for something. In one swift motion he grappled Timur by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him against the wall. 

Next thing he knew, he felt Maxim’s mouth against his own, the taste of cigarettes and liquor on his tongue as it pushed in gently and how his rough stubble scratched his skin. His breath was hot against his skin when he exhaled heavily, hands still grasping so tight and his body pinned him against the cold brick. At first Timur was taken by shock, paralysed by all his racing thoughts and when his senses came back to him, Maxim had pulled away. It was like something had been viscerally torn away from him and he let a quiet gasp escape from his throat.

He was too shocked to even move his hands, they remained half raised, hovering over Maxim’s sides and all he could do was stare bewilderedly back at him. Though a hunter like him knew the difference between true fear and surprise. His movements weren’t too fast or cautious and his touch was firm. He grasped Timur by his jaw, mannerisms as crude as they always were and he kissed him hard. 

It was the kind of kiss that would have witnesses looking away in disgust, the type with too much tongue and aggression but it had Timur weak in his knees. They could hardly keep up with one another, perhaps too desperate to slow down for a second to steady their feet. Timur allowed one hand to grasp Maxim’s arm, the other reaching up and threading through his short-cropped hair to pull him closer. In response to that, Maxim's hand slid from his jaw to his sensitive cheek, pads of his finger dipping into his skin to hold him still. Pain radiated from the blue bruise around his eye, prompting him to inhale sharply but the simple act of kissing Maxim compensated for it. 

It would be naive of him to think this would last any longer than it needed to be. Maxim pulled away again, this time for good. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smirk across his face as he began to walk again. His hands were shoved into his pocket and he paused when he realised Timur was still standing there.

“What the hell was that?” Timur asked, tone defeated and shoulders deflated. His brows furrowed upwards, imploring for answers. 

“Just testing something I suspected for a long time,” came Maxim’s response but an inkling told Timur this wasn’t the case. He had a tendency of acting aloof, taking cover behind a manly demeanour that turned its nose up at affection of any kind. “We’re friends, man. You could’ve told me.”

The cavity in his chest filled with a horrible, strange feeling, a storm of angry bees swirling in circles like a hurricane. “And you’re just playing with me?” Timur asked, taking a few steps forward now. His voice was tender, albeit every morsel of strength in his body trying to hide the agonising anxiety in his head. 

Noticing his seriousness, Maxim swallowed the lump in his throat and realised now was not the time to put up an act. “I didn’t mean to make it seem that way,” he said, sincere now and he looked him in the eye. “You want the truth? I’ve always liked you but I never knew how you swung so I didn’t want to make moves. I had a feeling but you know what it’s like…”

They began to walk again. A silence eclipsed them as Timur went over what happened and the options available to him. Although by the time he could even unravel his scrambled thoughts, they arrived back on base. When they passed by colleagues, it felt like they had robbed a bank, committed some massive, unspeakable crime and ingrained thoughts instilled guilt. 

Luckily their dormitory was empty aside from themselves. Maxim stumbled back to his bed and immediately shrugged off his jacket to reveal his toned arms, the baby-blue stripped tank-top that hugged his torso and he laid down. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, seeming peckish again but this time he gave one to him as well. Timur reluctantly accepted and leaned in to receive the flame from his lighter. They always had a smoke after a session of drinking, it was customary between them.

“What are we then?” Timur asked and sat down at the foot of his bed. He looked over to see Maxim with a hand behind his head, the other playing with his zippo. Their eyes met.

Maxim exhaled, cigarette dangling from the corner of his lip. “You tell me,” he spoke, his voice raspy as usual but this time his tone was gentler. “We could be together, or friends- even colleagues if I’ve overstepped my bounds. I won’t hold it against you, you know that, Timur.”

Was this a proposal? Timur continued to think, chewing on his bottom lip and Maxim allowed him a few moments. When he grew impatient, Maxim sat up, eyes still resting on him. He leaned closer until his face was merely inches from Timur’s shoulder, a brow raised in question. By now he knew what Timur wanted and that he simply didn’t want to admit it. Timur stiffened at the warm contact of Maxim’s hand sliding over the back of his hand, a soothing sensation.

The distance between them closed as Timur turned to look at him. 

“Tell me what you want,” Maxim implored in barely a whisper. 

It was always easier to express himself through actions than words. Without realising, his eyes had flicked down to Maxim’s lips. There weren’t any inhibitions holding him back, his thoughts were clouded in a haze of alcohol and nicotine. He kissed Maxim again, pleasantly surprised that a guy who was always rough around the edges could be so tender and gentle. Cigarette abandoned in the ashtray, he used his free hand to palm his cheek and his thumb caressed over the apex of his cheekbone. 

Their lips parted but they remained just as close, foreheads still touching. Timur let out a shuddering sigh of relief when he felt Maxim smile against him. He had wanted to feel this for the longest time and finally being able to experience the touch of another man, and take in everything from his scent to the warmth radiating from his body was true bliss. Euphoria in its purest form.

“I want you.”


End file.
